3.35 miles
trestle turn around
25 degrees / snow showers
100% snow-covered
Another wonderful run! Wore my yaktrax and hardly slipped at all. It was warmer with less wind. And it was quiet. Greeted Dave, the Daily Walker by calling out, I love this! I love winter running! He called back, Michigan, right? A year or two ago we had discussed winter running and I had mentioned that I was from the UP in Michigan. Nice memory, Dave!
Everything was white and gray and soft. At least an inch of soft snow on the trail. Encountered at least one fat tire, several walkers, including Dave, and a pair of runners. I remember looking out over the open space of the gorge, but I don’t remember what the river looked like. Was it completely covered?
I stopped at the trestle to breathe in the quiet. It was quiet, and it wasn’t. A woodpecker pecking on a tree, or was it a squirrel trying to crack a nut? The voices of the 2 runners passing by. Someone blasting music out of a car radio. A guy walking a dog and talking on a bluetooth.
I noticed something I’ve never noticed before. Just south of the trestle, there are 2 tall wooden posts sticking out of the ground, about 6 feet apart. Above them are thatched wooden slats. What is/was this?
I read a few more of Jana Prikryl’s poems from MIDWOOD. Here’s one that uses a favorite word of mine, still, and uses time to describe one’s location in space:
TEN O’CLOCK/ Jana Prikryl
Holding perfectly still at this party
a clutch of talkers, he’s at my four o’clock
you are at ten and you’ve cupped the fingers
of my left hand with the fingers of your left hand
as though no one will notice the little link
my whole occupation is holding still
so this may continue
all my feeling refuses
to toss the pebble in the current